


Counter Strike

by oliverscumslut



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A bit of non con, Angst, Anxiety, Auction, Bottom Harry, Brothels, Crime, Crime AU, Daddy Kink, Daddy Louis, Depression, Disorders, Drugs, Enemies to Lovers, Gangs, Gore, Happy Ending, Harry runs away, Louis is a bit of a dick, M/M, Older Louis, Painting au, Plot Twists, Prostitution, Robbery, Short Chapters, Temper Issues, Top Louis, Underage - Freeform, Violence, liam is good at boxing, like loads of drugs, like lots of gore, like really short, loads of plot twists seriously, major character death but you'll understand, mental issues, niall is cool af, ot5 feels, team work, this has a lot of action so be ready, zayn is a computer mastermind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:08:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24000361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliverscumslut/pseuds/oliverscumslut
Summary: A complete mess where Harry is trying to run away from everything, Niall looks innocent on the outside, Liam and Zayn are the perfect team, there is blood everywhere and Louis Tomlinson, painter to the outside world and infamous gang leader to the underground, reunites them in order to save them from someone who is intent on killing them all.Don't trust anyone.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I originally posted this on wattpad but thought why not post it on ao3 as well? This one is a ride, I started it when I was 13 and it was absolutely bullshit so I unpublished it and began writing it again. So here we go.
> 
> Read the warnings and tags properly.

Every step he ran over inflicted pain upon his whole body like thousands of bricks were being showered on him and he was crumbling under all the weight, the pressure, the stakes, the bets but he kept fucking running because he _had_ to earn his own freedom and he _had_ to get out of their grasp otherwise he wouldn't be independent, ever.

But that seems impossible when you're around 17 and living under the protection of a drug lord who now has ordered around 10 men to run after you and bring you back to the den just so he could send you off to satisfy someone else's needs.

"HELP!!" Harry cried, with trembling fingers and wobbly legs that didn't seem to do a fine job of getting him out of the tragic situation. "HELP ME!"

"THERE HE IS!!" he heard someone call out and whimpered, trying to run even faster, as fast as his lanky legs could carry him.

Always keep one thing in mind, when someone's running after you, don't make the mistake of turning back to look at them. Ever. _Or something like this would happen:_

He looks back, and _he's_ just behind him and Harry stumbles over his steps and he.. he _falls!_

_"Gotcha!"_ The man says and the rest of the men come running towards them. He picks Harry up by the collar, "Where were you running off to?!"

"Away from you!" Harry spat at him, trying to get out of his grip."Let me go, _Matthew."_

He had never thought he would ever take his oldest friend's name with such distaste but _fuck it_ he never thought he would be in this situation either.

Funny how things take a turn.

"Oh no Harry, you're coming with me."

The men cheer and a few even manage to ruffle his hair when Matthew throws him over his shoulder.

He tries to kick and punch knowing Matthew wouldn't hurt him back because Daniel would kill him if he did (probably) but he's just using up his energy and it's not getting him anywhere.

He's thrown into the back of the range rover and that's it.

That's how he finds himself sitting at Destiny's desk with her softly brushing his hair.

"You're ruining my curls."

She smacks him over the head and he glares at her, "What was that for?"

"What were you thinking?!" She yells, throwing the hairbrush that hits the headboard of her bed. "Why did you run away!?"

Harry sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, "You know why."

"Harry.." she huffs, crouching down in front of him, "I don't get it. Do you honestly think you'll be free if you run out of here?"

"Why not?" He answers with a question.

"Do you know how many gangs have an eye on you?" She retorts, "You have nothing. Nowhere to go to. Where would you live? On the fucking streets?"

He rolls his eyes, mumbling incoherent words.

"What was that?" She asks.

"Anywhere's better than here."

"You know that's not true."

Harry does, actually. Daniel, however dreadful he may be, has a soft spot for him. Destiny always tells him he's looking out for him but Harry just wants one thing:

_Freedom._

He's a caged bird and while he can't sing, he can sure as hell run. But that doesn't help either.

When Harry doesn't respond, Destiny sighs and Harry knows she feels defeated. No one can stop him. He might run again and he might get caught again but he won't stop trying. 

"You're up for auction today."

Harry's eyes widen and he feels his heart sink. _No no no._

_"_ What?" He asks, his voice cracking and his vision feels blurry because _what if_ it's someone cruel and what if he gets bought and what if he doesn't get the chance to run again-

"I'm sorry. Let's just hope you don't catch anyone's eye."

Harry shakes his head, burying his face in his hands because his heart is breaking and he just wants to be _free._

  
_"Harry."_ Destiny tries, "Daniel loves you but he loves money more. I'm sorry."

Harry knows this but it breaks his heart nonetheless and he doesn't stop his tears from falling when she gives him clothes and pushes him into the bathroom.

Harry doesn't even try to clean himself much, he's just standing under the shower with the water rolling down his body and clearing all the dirt gathered over his skin, thinking of all the possibilities and that fateful night that made him end up in this hellhole.

He just wants to be free.

_***_

Harry walks out, his eyes bloodshot, curls damp and clothes sticking to his skin. He knows he looks terrible and it's on purpose, just to repel any buyer and make sure he never gets bought.

"You look fucking awful, man." He hears one of the guards say. He knows who it is because he's the most friendly with him.

"Thanks, Clint." His voice is shaky.

"You know the drill." He tells him, patting his back, "You didn't even make effort today, i'll get you a banana as a congratulatory present if you don't get bought, kay?"

Harry feels himself smile at him, Clint was always his favourite here, after Destiny. Atleast he managed to make him smile.

"Thanks."

He goes and stands in the line with several other guys and girls, a few older than him.

His heart is pounding in his chest when the door opens and the first buyer stomps in.

Harry knows what to do, he keeps his eyes low, not raising his gaze. He knows better, especially after getting punched in the face by one of the buyers when he glared at him once. 

He sticks his feet out, making sure he looks unappealing.

The buyer's boots are making annoying tapping sounds over the floorboard and he can feel the sweat on his eyebrows when he sees him step closer and closer towards him.

His breath hitches when the man steps in front of him. _Who is this man? Why does he want Harry? He doesn't even look appealing?_

He feels two fingers lift his chin and _holy shit_ this man is gorgeous. Harry is openly gay and he wouldn't refrain from complimenting someone genuinely but this man is out of this world with that auburn hair and stubble and that jaw- those cheekbones look deadly and _god, he has blue eyes._

Harry feels an air of nostalgia hit him when they make eye contact and the man's eyes widen slightly, you wouldn't know if you weren't looking at his eyes and Harry awaits the punch that comes with staring for too long but it.. it doesn't come.

He hears his voice next and he really wasn't prepared for this.

"This one."

And Harry knows it's over for him.


	2. Chapter 2

_Dread dread dread_ and _no no no_ is what's echoing through his head at the moment and Harry really really wants to run away and out of this place, never look back at the dollhouse, ever.

The man has different plans though, as he grips Harry's hand and doesn't let go. Harry wants to chop his hand off and he would have if he had a knife or if his life wasn't on the line.

But the man's fingers are warm and slightly calloused at the tips yet soft at the same time so he doesn't object and lets himself be dragged around like a rag doll.

Seems like this man has been here before because he's taking purposeful strides and he knows his way around here.

They stop in front of a polished wooden door and Harry knows it's Daniel's office.

He opens the door without knocking and steps in, dragging Harry along and letting go of that tight grip.

Daniel is smoking when he sees him, he's smoking that cigar that Harry's sure his previous buyer bought him as a gift and he looks entitled and powerful but somehow watching the man plop down in one of the leather seats without Daniel's permission makes Harry feel like he's in the hands of someone even more powerful.

"Louis!" Daniel greets, a huge smile on his face as he exhales the smoke on his buyer's - who's name is probably Louis- face and Louis doesn't even flinch.

"Dan." He deadpans. "I want him."

 _'I want him.'_ he's talking about Harry as if he's a fucking lollipop.

Daniel looks at Harry and he eyes him up and down before giving an unreadable look towards Louis, who's leaning back in his seat.

"How long?"

"I'm here to buy him, not rent him." Louis shoots back.

They're talking about Harry like he's a fucking hotel room.

Daniel sighs, inhaling another puff of the cigar as he leans back and brings out a folder.

"I'm not allowing that." And, what?

"Yes you are." Louis' tone is grim and Harry feels like he's intruding a private conversation but he doesn't care because they're literally talking about buying and selling him like he's a fucking television.

Daniel gives in and slides the papers towards him and Harry learns a life lesson when he watches Louis read every single line properly.

"You don't trust me, do you?" Daniel pipes up.

"No one does." Louis holds himself back from saying more and brings out his own pen and signs it.

And that's it. Harry is his fucking property.

"He's gonna run away." Daniel smirks in Harry's direction and he feels heat rise up his skin when Louis looks back at him, eyeing him up and down, sizing him up while he stands there like a fucking mannequin.

"He won't." His _owner_ replies after a moment

"He will." Daniel reminds him and Harry _knows_ he will.

"I won't let him." And that... t _errifies_ Harry because.. what is he going to do to him?

Daniel's not holding back from speaking up again and again.

"He will, Louis. You know it. And you're gonna have to face the consequences when he does."

Harry's frowning at where the conversation is going because no, that is impossible. Louis couldn't possibly know shit about him. And there's something going on between the two, a fight, a reminder and Harry wants to find out what it is.

It's not helping.

A briefcase full of cash is exchanged between the two and they shake hands, Daniel exhaling smoke on his face once again and Louis sending him off with a death stare.

Harry meets Clint's eyes on the way back and Clint diverts his attention to Louis when he pats him on the back.

"See you."

Harry feels heartbroken. He really wanted that congratulatory banana.

As soon as he gets out of the dollhouse a strong gush of air hits him and Louis takes off his coat and hands it to Harry. "Wear this, it's cold."

And Harry is left looking at him in awe.

_Maybe not that cruel._

Louis opens the car door for him and he slides in, with the other man by his side. His _owner_ tells the driver to start driving and they're off.

There's a moment of silence before Louis speaks up.

"Since we're doing this how about we go through the rules?" His voice is sharp, accent heavy and dripping with authority. "But I don't want to scare you off already so let me start off by.. introducing myself."

He stays silent and Harry thinks the best thing to do would be to nod. So he does.

Louis speaks up again. "I'm Louis Tomlinson, an artist and you're gonna address me as sir and sir only. Got it?"

Harry gulps, eyes wide. "Yes."

Louis quirks an eyebrow, "Yes who?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He nods at him, "I don't know what you've been told back at the dollhouse but i'm not here to use you as my sex slave or anything. I'm obviously gonna feed you, give you a nice little room to stay in and have you do some tasks when I need it. Understand?"

Harry's throat feels tight but a part of him is relieved. "Yes, sir."

"You're a quick learner, Harry. Let me tell you, I like things to be done in a certain way and if you don't follow them, you get punished. And I might be a little cruel when you're a big mouth to me, so keep that in mind before fucking up. Listen to what I say, no running away, no clever games and you might as well just make it out alive."

Harry's intently listening and he doesn't know how Louis knows his name and he wants to, so he ignores the threat and asks. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"How do you know my name?"

Louis' jaw clenches and he tightens his fists around nothing, and all of a sudden Harry is _scared._ He tries not to show it.

"That's confidential."

Harry is fucked.

That much is clear when the car comes to a hault after about twenty minutes of terrifying silence and when Louis opens the door for Harry his jaw is hanging open because _holy fuck_ he's standing before a literal mansion that looks like a posh community college. Louis notices him theoretically drooling over his 'house.'

"Nice, right?" He winks and Harry nods, eyes still set on the intricate details and the grand fountain and those... cars?

"You've got a lot of cars, sir." Harry comments, eyes flickering over to the colourful Ford's lined up in front of the garage.

"Yeah, I like collecting." He waves towards Harry and the two start walking.

Louis shows him the directions to every room, reminding him not to touch anything antique because a friend of his likes the collection.

Harry couldn't help but ask, "Do you live alone here?"

Louis swallows hard and shakes his head, "That information is for another day."

Harry drops the topic and lets himself be led to a room by the end of the hallway. Louis slides a key over the pad and Harry wonders how he managed to snag someone so rich as his owner.

"This is going to be your room. Anything you require is in here, from clothes to toilet paper and shit like that, it's all there. Changing the sheets and stuff is up to you though I got it changed this morning only, so help yourself."

Harry looks around with the same jaw-dropped expression and thinks, he _thinks_ that maybe this is a bit better than what he had been going through.

"Thank you, sir." He politely says and Louis nods at him. He crosses his arms and leans against the door.

"The fridge has got food and the cabinets might have some cereal if you want. I know what poison smells like so don't try to make me tea and poison it or something because i'll know and the consequences would be ugly." He says in one breath and Harry feels so fucking weird having someone tell him this kind of stuff, "If you want to go out, you'll have to ask me. When you leave, you'll either go with me, which will be rare, or with one of my.. bodyguards-"

"You have bodyguards?"

"Never interrupt me again or i'll punch you." Harry shuts up at that, "Maybe I do, and I actually brought you here for a purpose. You're gonna have to come in my office at eight a.m. sharp. My office is just down the living room. Yell if you get lost."

Harry nods at that, gulping.

"I need you to use your words, Harry."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. You have a whole day today." He relaxes his posture and starts walking off, his door on the handle, "Behave or I won't hesitate to shoot you."

And he's gone.

Harry is a mess but he smiles, running back and jumping on the bed because despite the threats, he'll probably have a decent life.

He manages to change his clothes, wanders over to the kitchen and looks around; wondering if Louis is keeping an eye on him or something. He opens the fridge, grabs himself a bottle of water, and then looks for some fruits. He takes a banana from the fruit basket, muttering to himself how he's still gonna have his congratulatory gift and makes his way back to his room.

He only has to wait to see what this man's purpose to bring him here is.  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Harry is hiding under the bed when it happens.

His father is yelling at them but they're not listening, they... they have a gun pointed to his dad's head and his mum is crying in the corner.

Harry and his mum make eye contact and she subtly shakes his head.

Harry wants to get out from under the bed and help her, wipe her tears and tell her he'll protect her.

He fails.

She's screaming when someone steps on her hand and it's bloodcurling and Harry tries to hold his breathing but-

_Slap!_

His eyes snap open and he feels... sweaty. Louis is standing before him in all of his glory and he looks too tired to want to be awake at this time.

Harry abruptly gets up and wipes at his face, not ready for his skin to feel the wetness pouring down his cheek.

He looks at his owner, terrified.

"What's wrong?" Louis asks, and he gulps.

"N-nightmare." He stutters, hoping to calm his breathing and his racing heart. Louis hands him a bottle of water from the nightstand.

"Drink this and come to my office."

Harry takes it gratefully, sniffling and gulping down the water greedily as Louis leaves.

He somehow manages to find the office and knocks before entering. Louis is standing before the fireplace and has a drink in his hand.

"Isn't it too early to be drinking, sir?" He knows he's crossing a line so he adds the 'sir' at the end to make it somehow less tantalizing.

Louis huffs bitterly, "None of your business."

He drops the topic and finishes the whole glass before placing it on the table and walking over to Harry, eyes clouded.

Harry eyes the room, it's full of paintings and velvet cushioning and it looks gorgeous with every single detail adorning the walls.

"You're pretty talented, sir."

"I know that."

Harry doesn't point out how cocky that sounds because he values his life.

"I need you to stand right there." He points towards the wall beside the fireplace, the one that only has one painting hung over it.

Harry obliges and Louis stands in front of him, examining the posture.

"You know what? No. Go there." He points towards the leather couch and Harry does as he's told.

Louis nods his head and walks over the back of the room, bringing out a huge canvas. He then proceeds to lay his appliances and paints on his office table and looks at Harry.

"Harry?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Take off your clothes."

Harry's breath hitches and he takes a step back. "What?"

Louis is wiping his paint brush and suddenly Harry knows what this is all about, he's gonna paint him naked and sell it to make money and the whole world will see his body in a museum and make fun of him.

"You want me to repeat myself? Take off your clothes."

"W-why?" Harry's crossing a line but he's scared and he has a little self respect.

"Because I told you so." Louis looks at him, dropping the paint brush, "Are you not gonna listen to what I say?"

Harry swallows the bile in his throat and shakily nods, trying to hold the tears welling in his eyes. He takes off his shirt painfully slow, then his pants until he's left in nothing but his underwear.

"That too."

Harry feels a tear roll down his cheek and starts to slide his leg out of his undies but Louis sighs.

"Alright fine, keep that on."

Harry thanks each and every god and looks down at his body, and he feels repulsed because of how his ribs are sticking out and how skinny and pale he is.

"Lay down on the couch."

Harry nods, walking over to oblige. He lays down and Louis tells him to have his hands over his head. So he does.

He gives out a hum of appreciation and gets to work.

***

"Stop flinching." His voice is sharp and it sends shivers down Harry's spine.

"Sorry."

"Stop talking." Harry opens his mouth to apologise again but Louis stops him, "For the love of _god,_ Harry, shut up."

Harry stays silent and lets Louis do his work.

It takes about fifteen more minutes before Harry is fidgeting again.

Louis huffs, exasperated, "What now?"

"My crotch is itching, i'm sorry." And Harry sounds so apologetic and scared that it makes Louis laugh because he has _that_ power over him and _god_ having control in his life never felt so good.

He smirks, quirking an eyebrow, "And?"

Harry looks like he would cry and Louis doesn't want him to think he's a psychopath so he sighs, "Fine let's take a break."

Harry relaxes and desperately reaches out to scratch his crotch before his cheeks redden and he looks at Louis who has his jaw dropped.

He's fucked. It's fucking awkward; the silence, before Louis clears his throat.

"I'll look away."

Harry wants to disappear right on the spot because it's _weird_ and it's embarrassing and he feels so... awkward.

He sits up and taps his fingers on his bare thigh, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

"No need for that, sir."

They look at each before Louis looks away and makes himself a drink.

They don't speak, unspoken questions hang in the air like dust and Harry wants to wave that _dust_ away from his face.

"So Harry," Louis speaks up, taking a sip of his drink and leaning back against the table, "How'd you end up at the dollhouse?"

Harry gulps, it'd always been a sensitive subject. He's not ready to share it with anyone because it's like reliving a past experience, a painful one and the last thing on his mind is to experience that pain again.

"I'm.. not really ready to share that yet," he said, voice wavering, "Is that okay?"

Louis nods, gulping down the rest of his drink, eyes not leaving the floor. His cheeks are turning pink and Harry feels himself endeared. Louis places the glass on the desk and wipes his hands on his jeans.

"Let's get back to work, then."

***

After around an hour of having his arms over his head and Louis yelling at him to stay still, Harry was finally free to go.

He gets up, shamefully putting on his clothes and feeling like his privacy had been invaded, he watches Louis wipe off the sweat off his forehead and light himself a cigarette.

Harry has never really had a filter on his mouth, it gets him in trouble sometimes. "That's harmful for your health, you know?"

Louis glares at him pointedly and Harry feels himself trembling when he steps closer. "It says that on every packet. You've got a big mouth on you, Harry, i'm letting you off with a warning."

_'Letting you off with a warning.'_ he's talking like he's Harry's fucking teacher.

"Fine." Harry mutters and makes a face when Louis exhales the smoke and it fills up the room.

"What was that?"

"I said okay, sir."

"Good." Louis nods, taking another drag and waving Harry off. "Get out."

Harry stomps away and he feels a little angry, but there's nothing he can do about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my wattpad and instagram hehe: @/larryisntstraight  
> And twitter: CIGARETTESTANS


End file.
